I am officially done with my freshman year of university. WOOT WOOT.
There's something rather significant about this chapter. Actually, three somethings.
Also, quick note to my American readers: all temperatures are in Celsius.
***REVISED MAY 15TH, 2013
The TARDIS was already well at work repairing the mental defenses in Rose's head by the time they'd gotten far enough from the sun that the venting chamber was safe enough to enter. She felt her barriers returning, reinforcing the feeling of safety she'd never realized she'd had until it was ripped away. The ship seemed disgruntled as she worked and Rose had the strangest feeling the TARDIS would be chastising her for getting into this mess if she could.
The Doctor was deeply shaken by today's events. She thought it would've been obvious even to someone who didn't know him well. He was all smiles and laughter as he hugged Martha and patted the crew on their shoulders but his eyes were guarded and every time Rose left his field of vision she'd notice him immediately shift so he could see her again. She left the room without him once and when she came back she saw him visibly relax and his pupils return to normal size. That was when she fully understood the depth of his fear and she made an effort to keep close to him after that.
Only three of the crew had survived—Scannell, Riley, and Erina—and they followed the time travellers back to their ship to see what kind of machine managed to land in the middle of a venting chamber and would survive that kind of heat. When the Doctor gestured flourishingly to the TARDIS, the three of them gaped.
The Doctor chuckled and circled the TARDIS, looking for any damage.
Rose rested her forehead on the door. Thank you.
Scannell was the first to approach the TARDIS and looked the blue police box up and down in disbelief. "This is never your ship."
"Compact, eh? And another good word: robust!" he patted the side of the ship and sniffed proudly. "Barely a scorch mark on her."
"How is that possible?" Erina demanded. "Got so hot in here the thermometer broke. It should've burnt to a crisp."
"Like I said. Robust. Well, we'll be off now."
Rose took that as her cue and pulled the key from under her shirt and slid it into the lock. She felt the Doctor's fingers brush her arm and she glanced up at him.
"We can't just leave you drifting with no fuel." Martha objected.
Riley smiled at her concern. "We've sent out an official mayday. The authorities will pick us up soon enough."
"Though how we explain what happened…" Scannell shook his head.
The Doctor pushed the door open and sighed. He had no love for that sun, but he'd felt the sun's pain and understood why it had lashed out. "Just tell them—that sun needs care and protection, just like any other living thing."
Scannell nodded. Without another word, the Doctor stepped into the TARDIS, only too eager to leave this place behind. When the door shut behind him, Rose leaned away from the TARDIS. She'd been considering how to warn them and though the Doctor had done a good job of it just now she felt the need to take it one step further. There was a chance that people would try to study the sun—learn how it was alive, maybe experiment a bit. They had to know what would happen.
"When it was in my head, I was able to speak to it. You've got to make sure nothing like this ever happens again. It said it won't be merciful next time. Stay away. Don't mess with it. You've got to warn people."
"We will," Riley promised.
"Good." She smiled at them and started to head inside but Erina stopped her.
"Hey, Rose!"
Rose turned and Erina smiled at her. "Thank you for earlier. You saved my life."
Rose smiled and nodded, then stepped inside the TARDIS.
The Doctor stood rigidly at the console, facing away from the doors. She remained where she was for a moment and tried to discern the movement of his shoulders that meant he was breathing. She grew concerned when she realized he was still as a statue and quickly walked up the ramp towards him. Wordlessly, she slid her arms around his middle and pulled him against her tightly. For a moment he remained stiff in her embrace but then his hands came up and covered hers.
Martha joined them a minute later, prancing up the ramp. "So! Didn't really need either of you in—" She must've noticed they way they were standing because she cut off mid sentence. She walked towards them slowly, but with purpose, her heels clacking against the grating. "You alright?"
The Doctor sniffed, clearing his throat, and pulled away from Rose. He flipped and sent them away from Torajji and into the time vortex. "So, where to next? I say we skip our previously planned trip and go somewhere cold. How about ice skating and sledding? I know the perfect—"
"I've got a better idea." Martha interrupted. She grabbed Rose's hand then the Doctor's and pulled them out of the console room. They let her pull them down the hallways, glancing at each other unsurely. They passed their rooms, the kitchen, the library, the karaoke bar, and Martha eventually stopped at a door with a blue handle. She let go of Roses hand and opened the door, peeking inside experimentally. She'd requested the door with the blue knob always lead to the pool weeks ago. Time to see if the TARDIS had made it permanent.
"Right, in we go." She withdrew her head, kicking the door open with her foot, and shoved the pair of them into the poolroom.
Today the pool was a roundish shape, about ten yards across and six feet deep at most. The walls were shades of white mixed with blues—ice, they realized—and on the ceiling they could see indistinct swirling colors, like the aurora borealis. There was a tiny waterfall trickling down from a ledge on one of the walls. It was like a tiny lake inside a cave of ice. The air smelled fresh, like water with a hint of cool mint, and the water echoed off the walls like pebbles dropping into a shallow pool.
Martha strode purposefully past them, hopping from foot to foot to get her shoes and socks off, pulled the cellphone from her pocket, the key from around her neck, and set them on a table. Then she walked right up to the edge of the pool and cannonballed in, clothes and all.
The Doctor and Rose looked at each other, shrugged, and removed their shoes. Rose set her phone, key, and watch off to the side; the Doctor shucked his jacket, dress shirt, tie, and pulled various items out of his trouser pockets. Then they jumped in together.
The water was blissful, not too cold, but not too hot, either. It was perfect.
Martha floated lazily on her back kicking her legs idly to keep herself turning in a wide circle, careful to avoid the waterfall. Her clothes felt heavy but they weren't enough to pull her under. The water filled her ears, muffling the sounds around her, except for the splashes made by the other occupants of the pool. It was relaxing and, she decided, the best idea she'd had all week. Until something tickled her sides and she gasped, yelping at the same time, and arched her back to get away from it.
She flipped oddly in the water and pushed herself to the surface, pushing her hair out of her face. The Doctor was a few feet away, positively roaring, and Rose laughed from somewhere behind her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, braced her feet against the bottom, and sprang forward. She hit him square in the chest. His feet slipped on the smooth floor and he went careening backwards into deeper water. Rose hooted gleefully and she thought she heard the TARDIS hum in amusement as well. The Doctor's head slowly broke the surface. His usually wild locks were now limp and they clung to his skin. Martha sniggered and he frowned sullenly at her.
Martha heard and felt Rose swim up beside her and she held her hand up. Rose smacked her palm. The Doctor shook his head and straightened up. Martha's eyebrows shot towards her hairline. Apparently he'd discarded most of his layers before jumping in and all he was wearing over his chest was a thin white undershirt that hid absolutely nothing. It clung to his skin, accentuating the muscles in his chest nicely. It was rare that she saw him in anything less than an undershirt or one of his dress shirts and she took a moment to appreciate a view that usually only Rose would be privy to.
Then the white undershirt was filling her vision as the Doctor jumped at his two companions, hooking his arms around them, and dropped down into the water.
Later that night the Doctor and Rose were curled up together on her bed. Though, strictly speaking, it wasn't her bed anymore, the TARDIS had made certain of that. They'd gone for so long sharing a bed that she'd switched out the old one months ago for one a good foot wider so they would have enough room. The TARDIS knew full well that giving them a smaller bed (which would have been the logical way to get their relationship going further to someone unaware of Gallifreyan customs) would only serve to make the Doctor reluctant to spend as much time there. At least this way he could distance himself if he needed to without actually leaving.
Rose had pulled on her fluffy pajama but had foregone her usual t-shirt in favor of a spaghetti strap shirt. Goosebumps covered her skin, partially from the cool temperature in the room, partially from his touch. He was playing with one of her shirt straps absentmindedly, his fingers brushing her skin while she stared out the window. Tonight the TARDIS was showing her a scene of London with snow falling, as if they were slowly flying over the city. Normally she preferred to look out and see stars or the view from her room on the Powell Estate but as usual the TARDIS had sensed what would be best for her.
Sometimes she wasn't sure if she loved the ship or the pilot more.
Equally in different ways, she thought.
"I heard you," the Doctor said quietly, breaking the silence.
"You what?" she asked. Had he heard her thoughts? Shouldn't he have to touch her temples?
"Earlier, I heard what you said. Just before."
She knew what he meant or at least she hoped she did. Now was not the time for a miscommunication and, well, she wanted to hear him say it. "What did I say?"
"It's kind of blurred and the memory hurts, but you…" he inhaled deeply and after the exhale he said, "I remember."
"Remember what?" She felt him crane his neck to see her face. She tilted her head up. "What did I say?"
He hesitated for a moment and then said slowly, "You told me you loved me." He swallowed, staring down at her. She saw the unspoken question in his eyes and with it, hope, and a hint of fear.
Rose smiled mistily. "Did I?"
"You did. …Didn't you?" he frowned and for a moment seemed to consider the possibility that he'd hallucinated in those last few moments before he was swallowed by the fire.
She laughed lightly and kissed his chin to ease his doubt. "Yes, I did. But you already knew that."
He smiled at her, unbridled joy replacing the fear in his eyes. Of course he'd known. She'd been telling him without words for years. He ducked his head, shifting so she slid into the space between his arm and chest and pressed his lips to hers. They kissed languidly, lips sliding smoothly across each other. There was no rush, no reason for franticness or heat. Actually, heat was the last thing either of them wanted at the moment, the memories of burning so fresh in their minds.
He nipped at her lip playfully before pulling back and nuzzling her cheek with his nose. She peeked her eyes open and saw that his were already open and staring.
"I love you," she whispered, breath ghosting across his cheek.
The Doctor chuckled quietly. "Quite right, too," he whispered back and kissed her again. He didn't say the words but that was fine for now. She knew.
He pulled the sheet over her shoulders and she snuggled close with her face pressed into his chest. She loved being like this. She could both feel and hear his hearts thumping their strange dual beat, half of her favorite lullaby. His fingers slid through her hair, lightly brushing across her scalp, and soothed her to sleep. She last thing she felt before she slipped under were his cool lips against her forehead.
Really, she should've been expecting it. Years with the Doctor may have hardened her but she was no more immune to her subconscious than he was. Just a few hours after she fell asleep she awoke violently, tangled in the covers and thrashing blindly, a scream of utter terror ripping its way from her throat, and a nightmare of burning alive and being unable to move fresh in her mind. She hit the floor, still trapped in the thick duvet, and banged her head on her dresser as she struggled to get free.
The door banged open and the light from the hallway spilled in. The Doctor's face filled her vision and his hands grabbed hold of either side of her face and he tried to calm her. She continued to struggle. Looking down, he realized what was wrong and he slipped one arm around her, lifting her from the ground, and used the other to pull the blankets away from her. Tucking his arm under her legs, he scooped her up and sat down on the bed with her cradled to him. He held her firmly while rocking lightly just as he always did.
Her fists gripped his shirt and she sobbed against his chest. "I've got you," he soothed. "It was just a nightmare."
A shadow slid across the floor, blocking the light from outside.
Martha stood in the doorway in her pajamas with her hair wrapped up. She hadn't even bothered with a dressing gown. "What happened?"
"Nightmare," he answered.
Her shoulders slumped in relief. "I thought she was dying."
"So did I for a second." His lips twisted into something that wasn't quite a frown but wasn't pleased in the least. "I can handle this. Go back to bed."
Martha looked at Rose's shuddering form and opened her mouth in protest. The Doctor gave her a grateful smile, touched by her concern, before resting his cheek on Rose's head. She realized at the same time that this had probably happened before and that he did in fact know how to handle this, probably better than she could. So she closed her mouth, nodded once, and left without another word.
He kissed Rose on the top of her head. Her sobs had begun to slow as she calmed and realized where she was, who was holding her, and who had just departed. "I'm here," he promised. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She swallowed, exhaling shakily. "It was so…h-hot and…dark. I couldn' s-see and I couldn' m-move and I kept screamin' but n-n one could hear me 'cos I couldn' open my mouth."
His mouth twisted in anger and silently cursed himself for not foreseeing this. Of course she would have nightmares. She hadn't been fully possessed like he had but she had in no way been spared. He should've known this would've happened. He should've stayed. He'd only left to do a quick check on the TARDIS systems to ensure nothing had been damaged.
The TARDIS hummed in his mind accompanied by a wave of image and emotion: red anger mixed with brown understanding and pastel blue serenity. Scolding him for not realizing, understanding why, and wanting to calm them both. He realized his hearts were beating abnormally fast and he took a few deep breaths to steady himself and felt her mirror him.
They stayed as they were for several long minutes. The door slid shut, cutting off most of the light, and they were enveloped in soothing darkness while the TARDIS hummed around them.
"Come on, lay back down." He lowered her to the bed, slipping his arms out from beneath her, and stood. Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
"Stay," she whispered.
"Of course, love."
She lifted her eyes to his face and smiled. He realized what he'd said, panicked for about two seconds, and then decided he didn't care. He plucked the sheet from the ground, leaving the duvet where it was, and draped it over her. He kicked his shoes off and walked around to the other side of the bed, stretching out behind her. When she was safely cocooned in his arms he felt her start to relax again. He hummed softly, tracing a word over and over on her stomach in Gallifreyan. It took her longer than normal but she finally drifted off.
Only to start whimpering in her sleep not long after. He blew a cool breath of air across her face before kissing her temple, using the light but intimate contact to send a mental wave of calm into her subconscious. I'm here, you're safe, he whispered in her mind before withdrawing. Anything more and she might react negatively at the mental intrusion. Rose calmed.
He had to repeat the process several times over the next several hours, but somehow she managed to get enough rest. When he asked, she said she hadn't had any more nightmares, but something in her eyes told him she wasn't entirely telling the truth. But she hadn't woken up at any point so he had helped. That was good enough for now.
"Where do you want to go today?" he asked.
"Somewhere cold," she replied, "and cloudy."
Easy enough. At breakfast he told them to dress for snowy weather. Martha dressed in a heavy red coat, snow boots, gloves, earmuffs, and a pair of water-resistant pants. Rose showed up in wearing water-resistant trousers and a jacket, snow boots, thin gloves, and a scarf. Rose arched her eyebrows at him and neither of them commented on her attire.
He wouldn't tell them if it was Earth or not, but they did see a few aliens mixed in with humans, so if it was Earth then it was far beyond their time. They spent time on the slopes and went sledding, inner tubing, and ice-skating. The Doctor wanted to try skiing but his two companions exchanged a look and immediately pulled him away from the skis. They moved away from the sports area and made a snowman, a snow TARDIS, and then a Dalek. The last one they stared at solemnly for about thirty seconds then Rose called a group of children over and asked them if they'd like to destroy it. There was something strangely satisfying about watching a group of squealing seven-year-olds demolish a Dalek.
The next day they went to an autumn festival. The day after that they went to a winter solstice celebration and after that they showed Martha the beautiful Woman Wept.
At first, Martha didn't really think anything of it. The Doctor had said they should go to a cold place next and it was a relief after nearly being burned alive, but by the fourth day she was getting a little sick of having to bundle up to have any fun. That was when she started paying attention to their behavior.
Rose had had nightmares every night since their incident with the sun, though her screams weren't as horrible and didn't last as long as they had that first night. The Doctor's doing no doubt. Sometimes she went to check on them but the door was always closed and when she didn't hear anything further from the room, she'd creep back to hers and try to fall back to sleep.
Apart from cuddling with each other, neither the Doctor nor Rose was doing anything to keep themselves warm. When they went out in the winter, Rose barely wore enough to keep her warm, usually just a jacket and gloves, maybe a scarf. Sometimes in autumn or early spring she barely wore a windbreaker.
Inside the TARDIS she was always wearing shorts and a short-sleeved or sleeveless shirt. She didn't wear socks, either. The Doctor shucked his coat and jacket the moment they boarded the TARDIS. More than once he removed his dress shirt as well. Usually when the three of them sat on the couch she'd have to fight for every inch of the afghan but now they let her have the whole thing without protest. Neither of them cooked hot meals and when Martha did they both waited for their plates to cool for several minutes before beginning to eat. Same with their tea.
Unless she was mistaken, the inside of the TARDIS was chillier as well, accompanied by a cool breeze in the hallways. The pool stayed an icy cavern and the hot tub and sauna rooms disappeared entirely. The freezer had an unusual amount of popsicles near the front. None of the fireplaces were lit. That bothered Martha after another day of nothing but snow and she retreated to the corner of the library with a grand fireplace and magnificently ornate hearth. She convinced the TARDIS to light it and within a few minutes she was dozing in the kind of warmth that only could be felt in front of a real fire.
Rose came to find her and stopped dead when she saw the roaring fire. Martha waited for her to finish what she was saying and turned around when she didn't. Rose's eyes were wide and fixed on the fire. She bolted, leaving Martha startled and concerned. She thought back over the days since their scare on the spaceship and realized this was something else out of the ordinary she'd failed to identify before now. On their excursions the pair of them avoided the fireplaces and bonfires alike. They'd even flinched at candles.
"So where are we going today?" she asked the next morning, trying to be nonchalant about her suspicious. They were having pancakes. Martha was already chowing down but Rose and the Doctor had yet to do anything except cut theirs up.
"The Solstice Festival on Ether," he replied, prodding at his food with the tip of his finger to test the temperature.
"And I'm guessing it's not for the summer solstice."
"Nope."
She sighed and stabbed a piece of pancake with her fork, shoving it into her mouth. The Doctor poked his food again and Martha saw the two of them exchange a swift glance. Then Rose picked up her fork and started to eat. The Doctor joined in a minute later. Martha raised her eyebrows but chose not to comment.
"Can't we go somewhere warm?" she asked.
The Doctor stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. "But Etheran Winter Solstice Festival is one of the best! And it occurs for ninety-nine percent of their civilized history so even if I get the years wrong we won't miss it! There's tobogganing, races, games, music, plays, good food—if you want something warm, Martha, they make delicious hot cider I'm sure you'll enjoy."
"Do they have a great Summer Solstice Festival?"
"Well, yes…"
"Why can't we go there instead?" She raised her eyebrows pointedly and waited. Her suspicions were confirmed when he floundered for an excuse.
"What's wrong with a winter festival?" Rose demanded.
"Nothing," she said, "Except I'm getting sick of freezing my arse off every day. I haven't seen proper sunlight since—since, well." she didn't outright say it and she could tell they were both grateful. This wasn't a battle she couldn't win over breakfast, especially when she was outnumbered two to one. So she heaved a sigh, cleaned her plate, and asked what the dress was for the festival.
She headed up to the wardrobe on her own. Rose joined her five minutes later. Normally they would laugh and chat as they selected their attire, comparing, giving suggestions, and making the same old jokes about the Doctor and his suit. There was none of that. The silence between them was heavy and to Martha it screamed of everything that had been wrong lately
Rose emerged from the changing area wearing a long sleeved powder blue gown with white fur trim. She turned around in front of the mirror to see herself and this was usually the point where Martha chimed in with a 'yay' or 'nay.'
Instead she asked, "Are you alright?"
Rose looked at her in the mirror. "I'm fine."
"You're really not, though." She placed a deep blue dress back on the rack and kept looking. "I'm not blind."
The muscle in her jaw twitched but she would no longer meet her gaze. "I told you I'm fine."
"You've not been fine for nearly two weeks," she argued. "I'm a doctor. I can tell these things."
"Good for you."
Martha sighed. "Please don't start acting like him. I only want to help."
Rose rounded on her. "You wanna help? Then butt out." With that, she stormed out of the wardrobe.
Martha didn't go with them to the festival. The hum of the TARDIS changed when they returned many hours later but she didn't see them until the following morning. That was when she realized Rose hadn't woken up screaming. That was good, right?
Perhaps not.
Another week of cold, cloudy days, and frequent nighttime adventures went by. The Doctor seemed to be improving. He left his Oxfords on and sometimes his jacket. He still wouldn't eat hot meals, though. The same could not be said for Rose. She no longer screamed in the night but the more Martha saw her, the more she became certain that it was because she wasn't sleeping well enough to even dream. If she was even sleeping at all. With that realization came another: this had to stop.
She still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but from what she'd seen and the brief explanation she'd been provided, she knew the sun had been highly telepathic and very strong. It had broken through their mental barriers and invaded their minds, took over their bodies, and played with them like dolls.
The sun had been living in them, burning their insides and razing through their minds. Of course they would feel violated. Their minds were associating heat with the fear and pain they'd felt as they were taken over. The cold was comfort. The only warmth they allowed themselves was each other (safe) and some protection against the elements (necessary). They didn't want to go somewhere where they couldn't control the amount of heat they were exposed to.
She felt horrible for not realizing it straight off. She was a doctor, for God's sake—a good and proper doctor now, and she was recognized as such on seven planets and five times in Earth history. She'd seen more than her peers ever would, she'd helped entire civilizations recover from the brink of disaster. She didn't need a test to tell her she was a doctor, life and experience had done that. The eyes and lips of those she'd saved had done that.
Well, now she had two more patients. This seemed more like a job for a psychiatrist, but she didn't know any psychiatrists that would believe her, she would have to do her best on her own. Because even though the Doctor was getting better on his own she wasn't entirely sure he would be very helpful.
So the first thing she did was to try and recruit the TARDIS. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to make contact on her own as she usually had Rose around to make her case, but she needn't have worried. The ship was obviously concerned for them and after just a few seconds of talking aloud and hoping for a response, she felt the ship touch the back of her mind. It startled her at first. The TARDIS had never made such blatant contact with her before. It was usually just a brush of emotion, maybe a faint image. What she felt this time was distress that made her insides curl and love so powerful she felt warm.
She didn't know where the knowledge came from but she knew it was how the TARDIS felt for Rose and the Doctor. The concern was easy to identify, it was what she'd always imagined it would feel like when she was a mother worrying about her children. It was the love she couldn't quite describe. Somewhere between a mother's and a lover's. Were it coming from anywhere else she wouldn't believe it, but it somehow made perfect sense. That was when Martha realized exactly how alive the TARDIS really was. She loved them and their suffering was painful to her—and she was bonded to them both in such a way that the pain was felt emotionally and physically. Well, as physical as anything could be for the ship.
For a few minutes, alone in her room, Martha felt and watched what the ship was saying. Some of it she understood, some of it she didn't. She didn't think she'd ever be as attuned to the ship as the Doctor or Rose, not unless the ship started talking to her like this daily, which she doubted. This was a special circumstance. The TARDIS had been trying her best to comfort them but there was only so much she could do on her own. So, Martha came up with a plan and the TARDIS responded by flicking the lights for yes or no, and sending images when she wanted to add her own suggestions. It was like charades, in a way.
When they were done planning, before withdrawing from their connection, the TARDIS nuzzled her mind. She felt the love the ship had for her, like a friend or perhaps a close aunt, and her gratitude.
The TARDIS started things off by slowly warming her interior back to normal temperature over a period of several days.
On the second day she made eggs for breakfast. Rose tried to politely refuse and went in search of cereal, except the cabinets were completely and utterly void of anything that didn't have to be served hot. Neither she nor the Doctor was impressed.
"I guess you'll just have to eat the eggs," she said, setting their plates on the table. "Come on, while they're still nice and warm."
They sat down at the table with her and, as expected, the Doctor started prodding lightly at his food. Martha pointed at him severely with her fork. "There is nothing wrong with these eggs. They're cool enough to not burn your mouth. Go on."
The Doctor frowned at her. The TARDIS prodded the back of her mind, urging her to be gentle.
"How about this: take a few bites while they're warm and then you can wait until it's cooler if you want."
Rose and the Doctor looked at each other for a few seconds and then Rose picked up her fork, skewered a bit of egg, and slowly brought it up to her mouth. She hesitated with the fork a precarious few centimeters away and then gingerly slipped it into her mouth. She made a face that would've been funny in any other situation—half surprised, half pained, half terrified—chewed, and then swallowed. She set the fork down and did not touch her food for several minutes. The Doctor managed three bites before he, too, put his fork down.
They did it again at dinner. This time Rose managed two bites of spaghetti before dropping her fork and waiting for it to cool.
For the next few days, the TARDIS refused to provide any cold food except for milk to anyone but Martha. Of course this meant that she had to make most of their meals but she was an excellent cook and the TARDIS had a fair few cookbooks in her library. It was right around then that the Doctor started to realize she was up to something. He knew a partnership when he saw one.
One night when Rose was actually sleeping, he decided he wanted a snack and carefully slipped out of her grip and made his way to the kitchen. He expected his ship to play nice, it was only a snack after all, but once again he found the cupboards bare of snack foods and he didn't feel like cooking anything. A banana, he decided. That shouldn't be too much trouble.
But the TARDIS outright refused. Slamming the doors and drawers and flickering the lights in response to his pleading. Okay, not a banana. Any fruit would do. He opened a cabinet and she slammed it shut again. He offered maintenance work he'd been putting off and not to use the mallet for a week. A month. He'd take her to Cardiff for a nice meal on the rift. Finally, it seemed she had decided to accept his offer, and one of the cabinet doors opened slowly.
He walked over to it eagerly and looked inside. A single pear sat waiting.
"Oh, come on, that's not fair!" he protested.
The lights flickered. Take it or leave it.
He went back to Rose's room empty-handed.
When he got there he found her shuddering, a soft wail ripping itself from her throat. He immediately climbed into bed next to her and cupped her face in his hands. The difference in their body temperatures helped to soothe her in the burning terrors of her subconscious. This was the first time she'd stayed asleep long enough to dream in days and he was going to do his best to help her get the rest her body needed. She wasn't a Time Lord. She couldn't go without sleep like he could.
And thank Rassilon that he didn't have to sleep often. Normally when he did sleep her presence was enough to keep the monsters in his mind at bay. But as distressed as she was in her sleeping state he wasn't entirely sure that trying to sleep around her wouldn't do more harm than good.
Touching his fingers to her temples, he whispered into her mind. My Rose, I'm here. You're safe. Nothing can harm you.
He hadn't told her he did this for her ever every time she managed to sleep. He wasn't sure what she'd think of him entering her mind even as faintly as he did. But he couldn't regret his actions, not when they were helping her.
The next evening he decided he was going to confront Martha. Rose was starting to smell a bit funny in a way that was bothering him and he was hesitant to leave her alone for too long. So he waited until she was in the shower then he sought Martha out.
He found her in the fire room. Interesting room that one—never the same twice, but it always had a fire in it. Sometimes a fireplace, sometimes a fire pit—one time it was empty and white except for a ring of fire around the edge of the room. It looked like he'd walked into one of the TARDIS gardens. There were some trees—Earth in origin, most likely Douglas Firs but he'd have to have a taste to be sure—grass on the ground, and a single log in front of a roaring bonfire. He could feel the heat from the doorway and he thought of orange spacesuits, pain, and terrified rage.
He gritted his teeth and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Martha looked up and smiled.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
Her smile melted away. "Sorry, should I have invited you guys? Didn't think you'd want to join me, to be honest. I was gonna make s'mores. Want one?"
"No, thank you."
"Have a seat," she offered and then arched her eyebrows.
Martha didn't miss the way his eyes flicked to the fire and scooted over, patting the free space beside her. "If you want to talk you'll have to come over here. I'm not craning my neck like that."
She heard him sigh and listened to the grass crunching underneath his feet as he made his way over to the log. He sat down next to her and spoke without preamble. "What are you two playing at? You and the TARDIS. Don't think we haven't noticed."
"I would be surprised if you hadn't." Martha replied smoothly. He looked at her expectantly. "You want to know why we're working together? Ever since we dealt with that sun you two have scared of heat. Don't think we haven't noticed."
"You don't understand."
"No, you're right, I don't. I don't know what it's like to be violated like that—and I never want to—but I do know that this isn't healthy for either of you. Emotionally and physically."
She reached for his hand and grasped it firmly in hers. "We're worried about you, me and the TARDIS. That's why. I didn't realize what was going on at first, but she did, and when she realized I wanted to help she…she spoke to me. She's never done that before. It wasn't just her messin' with the lights, I could actually feel her in my mind, and she was sending me pictures. And I felt…I felt how she feels. She loves you both. I don't even know if you realize how much. I don't even know how to properly describe it, but I felt it, and we understood each other."
He said nothing.
"You've been shying away from anything really hot. It's because of how it felt, isn't it? It was hot?"
"That's an understatement. It was like my blood had been turned to magma. It wasn't as bad for Rose, but…"
Martha nearly shuddered. "It doesn't matter if she didn't have it as bad. She's not doing good, Doctor, surely you can see it?"
"She…no, but she—she is. She's eating more warm food every meal, she's gone outside in broad daylight, and she's even wearing t-shirts around the TARDIS…" he trailed off uncertainly.
"When was the last time she had a good night's sleep?"
"She got five hours last night," he said quietly after a moment. "That's the most she's had in days."
"I knew it. Doctor, what's wrong with you? That should've been your first and last clue. You can't keep this up. Well, maybe you could, but she can't. It's not healthy, mentally or physically. She could get sick. This has got to stop. Tomorrow we're going to somewhere where it's almost summer and you're both going to suck up copious amounts of Vitamin D."
"But—"
"I'm not asking to go to the Sahara or anything, just somewhere warm. Do you think you can manage that?"
He stared at her for a long minute and then nodded slowly.
She smiled. "Once the TARDIS feels that you're doing better, you can have your bananas back. In fact, I'll make you a banana milkshake."
But, alas, their warm day was not to be. Rose had woken up sick.
The Doctor mentioned that she'd smelt odd recently and said that he should have realized what it meant. She could tell he was already kicking himself over it, but Martha still spent a good few minutes scolding both of them for their disregards to Rose's health before diagnosing her with a cold. Unfortunately, the Doctor didn't have a cure for the common cold. Not one that would work on a human from the 21st century.
So she dragged him to the kitchen to make the tea while she cooked chicken and noodles. He recommended a few alien spices they had that were good for helping the human immune system. While the soup was cooking, he took her to the infirmary and gave her a quick injection that should keep her from catching what Rose had. He also located some medicine that would help Rose's symptoms and brought it to her with breakfast.
The three of them spent the day in the library, watching Disney movies and listening to the Doctor read aloud. They allowed Martha to tuck them under a thick quilt and Rose seemed to enjoy the warmth more than she had for nearly four weeks. She ended up sleeping most of the day, tucked under the Doctor's arm and curled against his chest.
The next day Rose wasn't any better, if anything she was worse. She was starting to run a fever and her coughs were getting thicker. But apparently the TARDIS needed some maintenance so the Doctor had to spend hours in the console room, though the idea seemed to pain him. Martha sat with Rose in the library during that time. Just like the previous day, Rose spent a lot of time napping so Martha kept herself entertained by reading and watching alien telly. When Rose started to hack up mucus Martha moved a trashcan in front of the couch for her and they kept a water bottle on the table.
Sometime after lunch while Rose was sound asleep at the other end of the couch, she felt the telltale jolt of the TARDIS landing. Rose didn't even stir. Martha was surprised. The Doctor had never managed to land them that smoothly. The TARDIS must have taken extra care for Rose's sake.
The Doctor turned up a few minutes later and explained he needed to go out for parts. He shouldn't be longer than a few hours, but in the event he was needed, he had Rose's phone in his pocket.
"Don't leave the ship unless you have to. The environment isn't hostile, but there's a bit too much carbon dioxide in the air for your lungs to handle. There are oxygen masks around here somewhere, but I don't think you'll have to worry. The natives are friendly and used to contact with many species."
He asked her to tell Rose where he'd gone if she woke up before he got back, but he didn't expect to be gone that long. He knelt by her side and kissed her cheek, brushing her hair out of her face, smiled at Martha, and then left.
Rose woke up about two hours after he left and she was upset that he hadn't said goodbye. It always made her nervous when he went somewhere she couldn't without depending on suit or oxygen mask to survive. Martha brought her some more soup. Rose made a face at it and only ended up taking a few bite because her stomach was feeling funny.
A few minutes later she said she needed to use the bathroom so Martha helped her to her feet. Rose swayed back and forth like she was dizzy for a moment and then her eyes widened in dread. She jerked out of Martha's grip and dropped to her knees in front of the trash can just seconds before she threw up. When she was done, she moaned softly and sagged against the couch.
Martha sat next to her, rubbing her back soothingly. Rose was awfully pale and she felt hotter than earlier. She threw up again and then Martha decided it was time to move her to the infirmary. She helped Rose to her feet and let her use her for support as they walked out of the library. The TARDIS had already rearranged the rooms so the infirmary, Rose's room, the library, and the kitchen were all in the same hallway.
The usual examination table had been swapped for a 21st century hospital bed, and after a stop in the bathroom, she helped Rose into it and adjusted the back so he was sitting up. She then quickly located a plastic bin she could hook onto the side of the bed. Martha found a warm blanket and a fluffy pillow in a cupboard and got Rose all tucked in. Then she found a thermometer and went to get her some more water while they waited. It ended up taking three tries to get an accurate reading since Rose kept coughing so much.
"I'm cold," Rose said as Martha took the thermometer.
"Thirty-eight point three degrees," she murmured. "You were thirty-seven seven earlier."
Rose sipped gratefully at the water, swishing it around her mouth, and spat into the bin. "Ugh, tastes horrible." She took another drink, spat it out, then slowly drank the rest. "Are you gonna call the Doctor?"
"If he's not back soon, yes. In the mean time, I may not be the Doctor, but I am a doctor. I know what I'm doing."
Rose smiled and started coughing and hacking again.
Martha washed off the thermometer then went looking for a stethoscope and the digital blood pressure monitor the Doctor said he had around here somewhere. She fastened it around Rose's wrist. The results were slightly lower than she'd have liked to see. She listened to Rose's heart and her breathing. Her lungs sounded full which explained why Rose was coughing up so much.
"Are you having any difficult breathing?" she asked as she listened.
"A bit."
"Hmm." She muttered. She was starting to get a good idea what was going on. She hoped she was wrong.
She went to get dinner for herself and told Rose to either have the TARDIS get her attention if she needed anything. She didn't feel like making anything special so she just heated up some chicken nuggets, squirted some honey on the plate to dip them in, and set the plate on a tray along with a glass of milk, some carrots, two popsicles, and an empty two-liter bottle that she filled with water. Rose had nearly fallen asleep by the time she returned with a tray. She lifted her head blearily and was roused fully from her doze by a round of coughing.
"I brought you some popsicles." Martha said when Rose was relaxed again. "You probably shouldn't be eating solids for the time being but you need to stay hydrated. Grape or cherry?"
"Grape."
She unwrapped a grape Popsicle and handed it to Rose, then pulled up a chair and ate beside her.
"Thank you," Rose said. "You didn't have to do this."
"Yes I did," she retorted immediately. "Wouldn't be much of a doctor or a friend otherwise."
Rose laughed weakly and sucked on the Popsicle for another minute then took a sip of water. Martha kept a careful eye on her but tried to not make her concern overly obvious. Rose didn't feel like eating the other Popsicle, which Martha promised her was fine.
"Go back to sleep," she instructed. "I'll give him a call and wait with you until he gets back."
She finished her dinner then returned to the kitchen and put the Popsicle away and washed her dishes. She retrieved her phone from her room and called the Doctor on the way back to the infirmary. Except he didn't answer. She called back three times but each time she got voicemail. She left him a message the last time, calmly informing him that Rose was getting worse and he needed to get his Time Lord behind back to the ship.
Maybe he just wasn't in a position to answer. She hoped that was all it was.
She stood silently over the bed and watched Rose sleep while she ran over a list of Rose's symptoms again. They all pointed to pneumonia. She really hoped it wasn't but it would probably do to have the Doctor find her some sort of antibiotic tomorrow. Whatever was wrong with her, they obviously didn't have a cure onboard or else she was sure the TARDIS would have made it visible by now. She could control where things appeared, but to do so she had to first have it onboard, she couldn't just pull things out of time. Martha wished she could find something for Rose herself, but all the labels were in Gallifreyan and the TARDIS refused to translate the Doctor's native language. Even for Rose. She'd asked.
Rose's sleep was punctuated by coughs every so often but nothing severe enough to wake her up.
Curled up in the plush chair near the wall with her phone clenched in her hands, Martha kept vigil for hours. She grew increasingly worried as more time passed. She called the Doctor four times but he never picked up. She found a thermometer strip and placed it across Rose's forehead. She about had a heart attack when she saw the results until she realized it was Fahrenheit, not Celsius. Must've been an American invention.
Martha did the math in her head and sighed. Thirty-eight point nine. She was getting worse. And she was so pale.
Rose wrinkled her nose and her head tossed to the side. Suddenly the scene before her seemed oddly familiar. She had to think about it for a minute, but then she recognized an image from days ago when she and the TARDIS were talking. At the time she'd thought it was merely a warning of what could happen, now she realized it was a warning of what was going to happen.
Rose woke up around midnight and had a fierce coughing fit about half a minute later. Martha held her hair back as she hacked up more mucus into the bin and then she hugged her as she cried and got her some water to wash her mouth out. Rose asked where the Doctor was. Martha lied and said he was on his way back and held Rose's hand as she fell back to sleep.
Damn them both, they should have been more careful, especially the Doctor. How could he have forgotten that temperature affected human immune systems? It was only too easy for Rose to pick up the bacteria.
A round of loud, harsh coughing woke her sometime later. Martha sat up in the chair and looked around in alarm. It took her a second to remember where she was and why she was there but then she sighed and rubbed her eyes. She yawned and checked her watch—fourteen past ten in the morning, London time. Rose was sitting up in bed, holding her chest and wiping her eyes.
"Where's the Doctor?" she demanded as soon as she caught her breath.
She opened her mouth to lie but she knew the TARDIS would probably correct her and Rose would want to see him. "I…don't know."
"You said he was on his way back."
"I lied. I didn't want you to worry."
"I asked the TARDIS. She says he's not onboard."
Martha bit her lip. "Right, well, it's been over twelve hours."
"Something's wrong." Rose tossed the covers aside. "We have to—to—" she was cut off by another round of coughing and she leaned over the basin, spitting into it.
"You're not going anywhere." Martha ordered, rushing over to the bed, and pushed Rose's legs right back into place. "Get back under the covers right now and hold still."
She placed the thermometer strip on Rose's forehead again and retrieved the stethoscope from the counter. She glanced up at the strip, did the math, and sucked in a sharp breath. Rose was burning a thirty-nine point nine. Not good. Definitely, not good. Her lungs were still full and her breathing was raspy. Even worse. She didn't do a good job of schooling her features.
"What's wrong with me?"
She pursed her lips. "How long has it been since you've felt a hundred percent? No, wait, let me rephrase that because I know you haven't been sleeping. When did you start to feel ill?"
"Um…about four days, I guess."
"And five days ago we were in winter 1932 in Canada. You could've picked it up there or the day before. That's enough time. I think you may have pneumonia."
Rose's eyes widened and what color was left in her face vanished.
"I can't treat you until I know for sure and everything's in Gallifreyan." She sighed, gritting her teeth. There was nothing else for it. "I'm going to have to go after him."
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